


Damsel in distress

by Alice03



Series: Our Future is up to us [2]
Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: F/M, Stream of Consciousness, Tewksbury's POV, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice03/pseuds/Alice03
Summary: In which Tewksbury is pouring his thought about what he can do and what he will do. He is planning another escape and, of course, with some help he can get. And yes, Tewksbury is the damsel.
Relationships: Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Series: Our Future is up to us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960597
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Damsel in distress

**Author's Note:**

> This is overflowing stream of thoughts, Tewksbury is swimming in. Hope you enjoy!! :)

I’m in my room. In Basilweather. Sitting on my bed. In my morning robe. Don’t be silly, I don’t stay in my pajama when it is obviously already morning. My eyes move from one corner, up, back to the corner, move the other side but I don’t really looking at anything. Is it supposed to feel different once you hold the seat. Like, you have the title, but the seat in the House should put a solid different feeling to it. But, no. Nothing. It is true I made a vote, an era-defying vote, the first step of changes to come. That was something, right? The thing. I suppose you remember me telling Enola Holmes I have these ideas about how we might progress the estate. With flowers, of course. Not. I’m not that simple, you know. Even though, scientific names of flowers and plants run through my mind unstop. May be I can do some research on the plant variety on my estate in the process. What else do you think I can do? What do you think I am supposed to do? Is it regulated for a lord to do anything that I am obligated to? 

Only then that I notice a small card fallen beside the bed. It is a flower painting of a blue small flowers written ‘Our future is up to us’. I don’t remember having this card even though it reminds me of the pressed blue flowers in that notebook in the tree house. And of Enola Holmes, when she found me at the flower market I was in hiding. She did mention the pressed blue flower, didn’t she? And that she thought they were beautiful and she didn’t give a fig about it. Come to think of it. She said it was beautiful. There is no way she did not give a Fig about it.

“Sir. Lady Basilweather called for you.” That startles me a bit. Now, where was I? Oh, right. The blue flower card. I put it in the side drawer and got up.

“I’m coming,” I say while taking off the robe. Neatly fold it and put it on the bed. Golden silk lining in a floral pattern sparkles under the morning sun. I stare at it for a while. I love how the pattern is hidden and only shows under a certain spec of light. 

I put on a casual shirt, long sleeve. A beeches. Black. A belt. I really do not want to make a fuss about late breakfast. I can change into a more proper coat for the afternoon. Are you frowning? Ladies, man also have a taste for clothes for occasion too you know.

Mother is talking to a lady, in black so I slow my pace. Sure, I want to know who that is and what they are talking about. But it wouldn’t be so gentleman-like, would it? And this attire is not very suitable for meetings. I thought it was just Mother. 

Like they heard me coming, the lady in black quickly excuses herself. A servant is called to escort her out to her carriage. They must be not very close otherwise Mother would have went out with her and seen her off. Or rather they don’t want me to know about their business. But really, is there anything to hide. So the last one is improbable.

“Mother,” I said while step inside the hall. She abruptly stands up.

“My dear, you’re just in time”

“I didn’t know you had a company” I must look a little confused to her because she softens her eyes. (In fact he looks like he just woke up and still elsewhere, and his mother just doesn’t want to alarm him)

“It’s nothing,” Mother waves her hand like it really was insignificant. “I’m just wondering if you’re free this afternoon,” Mother asked like it is another insignificant matter. But I can see there is something there. I glance the garden out the window while following Mother to the breakfast room. 

“Don’t think I have any to tend to,” except.

“In that case, you may as well come with me to London? I have an appointment with a distinguished lady. She may bring a girl your age. And I think it’s time you socialise. You don’t have to be her suiter but…”

Her voice fades. That’s the EXCEPT I talked about. This has to be, sooner or later. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon. Now that I have a seat it’s more than just title. I knew it. This is another difference I didn’t think of. Such an idiot to have answer so quickly.

“…and I thought...”

“I may have to look into some document,” at least I try.

“…and I thought you’re spending time too much alone. You’re talking to yourself, dear, quite all the time.” Did I? I didn’t think anybody would hear though. Is it unusual that I am talking to YOU?

So we have breakfast. Uncle is going to London for his military work of some sort. I figure that Mother thinks it is a convenient timing for us to all go out. Why can’t I stay in? People can socialise without me. I have a lot of projects going on here. Well, in my head. I cannot run away like I used to now, can I?

While we eat, maybe you’d want to know about Grandmother. Actually, she was not charged with anything in particular. She just proposed and agreed on it by herself to remove to another estate of ours in another countryside. That way I think is the way of promising that she will not interfere with my decisions and not harm me. And we can go visit or she can come visit but with a long journey. I’m fine by that even though I’m going to miss her.

Ummm. They continue talking and I am not in the mood anymore thinking of Grandmother so I excuse myself and retreat to the treehouse.

I pick up some well bloomed mushroom along the way. Loving danger, here, ain’t I? I climb up the tree. And there, was the mess Enola Holmes made. My notebook is apparently flipped through and the blue flowers… They’re missing. Oh? Is this a trade? That blue flower card is hers, obviously. No one can slide something into my pocket without me knowing. Well, maybe an exaggeration. But really nobody ever noticed my flowers, except for my Father, (Mother sees but she doesn’t think they’re of any special meaning.) and that card just made me think of this pressed ones. It was hers! 

I make a place to sit, to think. ‘Our future is up to us’

Well

That means I choose for myself.

I know I’m able to refuse Mother and walk off untouched. But would it be fun? This is going to be an adventure. A particular escape. And I know the escape wouldn’t be complete if there’s no rescuer. I reach for my notebook and other papers and start to write. I wander in the woods and get lost in my thought. 

Phase 1 : Dress to the occasion

I’m going to put on my best coat for the afternoon. That doesn’t have to be. Maybe second, third or fourth best will do. With this hair who can resist? And Mother will not suspect. Would be a little but with my sharp look? No, I don’t think so. 

I return the notebook inside a box on the treehouse and set off back to my room. I need to start trying on my suit now.

The Game, my dear friends, is afoot.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on re-writing this with a continuation of the story.  
> Sorry i'll have you wait but my country is having a political situation so we're kind of engaged. We're doing everything and it's time consuming. anyway, this is coming back as soon as possible. love yooou <3


End file.
